


Dog

by Dark_and_night



Category: The Boy (2016 Bell)
Genre: Dog - Freeform, One Shot, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22997170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_and_night/pseuds/Dark_and_night
Summary: You want a dog, and Brahms doesn't like animals.
Relationships: Brahms Heelshire/Reader, Brahms Heelshire/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 66





	Dog

“Can we get a dog?” There. It took you three days to think of just the right way to ask, the subtly, the art, the horrifying ordeal of asking someone for something, and now it was finally out there. You had planned it all perfectly. Don’t bother him for anything for a couple days, follow all of the rules, and to ask when he looked comfortable. Foolproof.

Brahms looked up from the book he was reading, his eyes looking incredulous from behind his mask. “What?”

Not foolproof. 

“I’ve always wanted a dog.” You said, fiddling with your hands before you could stop yourself. You hadn’t anticipated him asking questions back in your grand master plan. Just a yes or no!

He looked around for a moment, finding his bookmark that had slid under his leg and putting it in the book before closing it and setting it on the nightstand next to the bed. He seemed to be choosing his next words carefully as his eyes found their way back to you. 

“I don’t know if you know this, but animals and me historically don’t really get along.” Brahms said, giving you a look at was almost apologetic.

“Oh.” You felt yourself deflate a little. You sat on my half of the bed, getting under the blankets, not bothering to hide your disappointment. 

Brahms sighed beside you, holding up one of his hands as he chose his next words. “A dog might not be terrible.” 

You tried reading his expression, which was difficult since his default emotion was ‘wearing a mask.’ The thought of pissing him off made your heart clench. 

A polite smile spread across your face as you picked up a book, flipping through it. “Sorry, never mind.” You laughed, waving my non-book-filled hand as if you were shooing away the thought. “I didn’t think about how you felt about animals.”

Brahms stared at you out of the corner of his eye, but you focused on the task of finding where you had left off in the book. “Forget it.” You added, but in the pit of your stomach you knew that extra sentence was too much, too fake. 

Standing, you tossed the book on the bed, picking up a pair of jeans off the floor and slipping them on. “I’m going to go get a midnight snack, okay?” You silently thanked yourself for being a natural slob as you picked up a shirt from the floor as well, putting it on quickly. 

“I thought you were going to read with me.” Brahms said, watching your hurried attempt at escape.

His words quickly made you realize exactly how awkward your attempt at dropping the subject smoothly was going, but you had to power through it at this point. If you didn’t, you’d be stuck in the same room together after you had just made everything weird. 

“Couldn’t get into the book.” You replied. Which was an honest statement at the very least. “Plus I’m hungry.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Brahms asked.

“No, it’s fine.” You smiled and started powerwalking to the door.

You heard him say ‘okay’ behind you, but you were already halfway to the door. 

He’s so scary. You thought to yourself as you walked. Even though the weather was nice, goosebumps had risen on you skin. Realistically, there was nothing stopping you from leaving this house except for one lanky man. But, oddly enough, you didn’t want to leave him alone. He was scary, but, there was something about him that made it impossible for you to just leave him alone.

Instead of eating, you walked through the house, wandering. It really was an amazing house. You wandered through the rooms, looking for something to do before you just sat in the living room, playing a game on your phone.

When you ran out of lives in one game, you would switch to another, until before you knew it, it was three in the morning and you had been playing games for almost four hours.

“Crap.” You stood, heading back to the bedroom, preparing a few statements in case the dog thing came up again, or if Brahms pointed out that you hadn’t eaten anything. You circled through the comebacks, memorizing them and trying to come up with every possible response that Brahms could come up with. 

Opening up the door and, you looked around in confusion to see that Brahms wasn’t in bed. You’d figured he had been watching you, but he usually at least had the courtesy to pretend he hadn’t been spying. 

You started stripping when you heard a loud crash from downstairs. You stood there frozen, your hands on the bottom of your shirt. Is Brahms throwing a tantrum downstairs? I didn’t even do anything!

Somewhere in the house you heard a howl of pain and a lot of swearing, and very loud barking. 

“B-Brahms!” You yelled, running downstairs. 

The barking got louder as you hurried down the stairs, and the next thing you saw was a huge golden retriever barreling toward you, Brahms running behind him and screaming curses at the dog.

“Wait!” Brahms yelled, his eyes widening as the dog ran at you.

You screamed in surprise, thinking that the bog was about to bite out your throat, when it slipped between your legs, circling around you several times before planting itself behind you, growling at Brahms from its spot behind you. 

“God damn it.” Brahms spat, clutching his arm. Blood pooled between his fingers, dripping down his forearm. 

“Brahms? What’s going on?” You asked, looking down at the furious dog that was using you as a shield. 

“What does it look like?” He snapped, jamming his finger at the dog. “Dog. Pet. Whatever.”

“But I told you to forget about it.” You said weakly, reaching down slowly and petting the top of the dog’s head. It looked up at you, taking a moment from growling at Brahms to give you a singular bark of solidarity.

Brahms glowered at you, the dog’s attention snapping back to him. “Listen to me, okay?”

Your back straightened at attention, the dog growling again.

“I chose you. I want you to want to be here. I can do things for you just like you do things for me.” Brahms winced, looking at the small puddle of blood that was pooling by his feet before looking back at you. “So you should stop tip-toeing around me.” 

Brahms stormed off into another room, clutching his bitten arm. The moment he was out of sight the dog relaxed, whining softly. You knelt down, the fear and anxiety from the earlier confusion still having a hold over your body. “Are you okay now, boy?” You asked the dog, gently petting his head. 

The dog whined again, moving his head to lick your hand. Giggling softly, you gently wrapped your arms around his neck in a hug, watching as his tail slowly began to wag. He was a good boy, just a scared one. He licked your face and you laughed, pushing away from him.

You ran my hands down the fur of his neck, feeling for a collar. “No collar, boy? I hope that means he got you legitimately, but I can’t see any way he could have gotten a dog in the middle of the night that isn’t shifty.”

The dog didn’t reply, lying down on the ground with his head on your feet. 

“Hopefully he didn’t steal you from anyone.” You sighed, scratching behind his ears more. “I guess that means you’re mine now, buddy.”

You sat down on the step, the dog took the opportunity to shoot up and lick your face. “No!” You laughed, pushing him away, quickly realizing your mistake. “Down!”

You kept laughing as you sat up, pushing the dog off you. “I should probably name you so you know when I’m scolding you!” You joked, giving him more pets and simultaneously pushing his dog-mouth away from your face. 

“What about…Boxers? Do you like that name?” You asked. Boxers just wagged his tail, just happy to be there, as most dogs tend to be. “Boxers sounds like a good name for you.” 

You stood, and Boxers stood with you, and you walked him to the bedroom, Boxers by your side.

“What a good boy.” You cooed. “I hope you and Brahms will get along. He may be…himself, but I think he’s an overall okay guy.” 

Boxers sniffed around, exploring the new environment, when you heard a sound from the bathroom. You walked over to it, keeping the door as closed as possible so Boxers and Brahms wouldn’t be forced to see each other.

Brahms hovered over the sink, blood covering the sink as he dabbed at his bitten arm with a face towel. The first aid kit was spilled out all over the counter, as he had apparently been digging around in it.

“Are you okay?” You asked tentatively. 

“Fine.” He replied, wrapping gauze around the injury. 

Boxers trotted back by your side, evidently done exploring. You felt his fuzzy body brush up against your leg, and you smiled down at him before looking at Brahms. “I’m sorry to put you through this.” You apologized, eyeing the blood staining the sink.

Brahms opened his mouth to speak and stepped toward you, but immediately Boxers started growling and got between you.

“Oh, buddy.” You reached down and scratched his head, trying to calm the poor boy. “You’re so brave, Boxers. But it’s okay, Brahms is a good man.”

Brahms paused before breathing out through his nose in a semblance of a laugh. “Never been called that before.”

You smiled, walking out into the bedroom, making sure Boxers was in tow to give Brahms room to exit the bathroom without getting mauled again. “So just now, were you going to say something?” You called over your shoulder.

“Oh, yeah.” Brahms said behind you. He walked over to his side of the bed, sitting down, keeping his distance from the dog. “I just wanted to say, I hope you’re happy. I hope you’ll stop apologizing soon.”

You remained silent, not entirely sure how to feel reply. You leaned down and pet Boxers more, deciding that the best response would be no response at all. Brahms seemed to sense my unease, because he continued.

“Trust me. I’m very obvious when I’m upset.” He shrugged. “So, you don’t have to apologize to feel safe.”

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled. You flinched when you realized what you’d just done. “Crap! I’m sorry! Fuck, sorry-god!” You covered your face in frustration and embarrassment, your inability to not apologize clashing with his suggestion that maybe you didn’t have to apologize for everything.

Then Brahms snickered.

Pulling your hands from your face, you saw Brahms start full blown laughing, going so far as clutching his stomach as he howled. It sounded like someone imitating a person who had never laughed before. The fact that his laughter was muffled by his mask didn’t help.

“You know, I couldn’t ask for a more entertaining nanny!” He kept laughing, quickly getting out of breath.

You just stood there, staring at him. Even Boxers was silent as you watched him laugh. 

Brahms looked up at you, a couple more repressed gasps leaving his mouth as he finally got a hold of himself. “Go ahead and apologize if it makes you feel better.”

While you appreciated the sentiment, you were more focused on how you’d never heard him laugh, and kind of suspected that was his first time laughing at all. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You smiled, walking Boxers to a neighboring room, closing the door, knowing he was close enough that you could hear Boxers if he needed anything. “Ready to go to bed?”

“Very.” Brahms called, already under the covers.

Smiling to yourself, you went through your nighttime routine, Brahms’ laugh and your new dog putting you in a fantastic mood as you got ready for bed.


End file.
